BY KAY BOATNER
Procrastination is bad, kids. It can keep you from going places…literally. I should know. I’m 21 years old and I just got my driver’s license this past summer.
Why did I wait five years to get my license, you ask? Pure laziness.
For years, I begged for rides from family and friends alike. Being constantly chauffeured around by others wasn’t bad, I’m not going to lie; I got a lot of shut-eye on the early morning rides to school, back when classes started at the ungodly hour of 7 a.m. But being dropped off by your mommy in front of a crowd full of high-school seniors at the midnight showing of Pirates of the Caribbean? Downright embarrassing.
Plenty of people, my mother included, pestered me to get my license, but I failed to summon up the energy to apply for one.
Finally, when I was 17, I managed to drag myself downtown to get my permit. I could have gone to the DMV a few short months later and taken my road skills test and officially joined the world of road rage.
Of course I could not do that, though. I did my fellow procrastinators proud by allowing my permit to expire after three years. Yes, my permit expired when I was 20. Yes, I got it renewed and waited yet another full year before finally taking the driving test.
This past June, secure in my knowledge of all things road related, I had my mom drive me for what was hopefully the last time to a DMV far enough away from home to avoid the awkwardness that would be sure to accompany any run-ins with former friends or classmates.
Mark, a nervous-looking middle-aged man, administered my test. We got into my father’s Honda Civic, took a lap around the block and parked in the exact spot we had just pulled out of five minutes earlier. I passed.
It took me five years to take a five minute test. Now that’s an accomplishment.